Andorian Shingles
by gemstone1234
Summary: Based off what Bones said to Kirk the day they met. 'And wait 'til you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding' Kirk develops a case of Andorian Shingles.
1. Sitting Pretty

_Hello world of Star Trek, this is my first Star Trek fic so reviews would definitely be appreciated. As you may have guessed this is based on what Bones said when he and Kirk first met:_

_And wait 'til you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs start bleeding.'_

_I have kind of based the symptoms of Andorian Shingles on the symptoms of shingles we have, in the real world since all we know about Andorian Shingles is that it causes your eyeballs to bleed, a notion which really does make me cringe. Anyway, I don't own Star Trek (sadly), if I did it definitely wouldn't be the hit that it is today because let's face it, it'd be pretty awful. _

**Andorian Shingles**

**Chapter 1- Sitting Pretty**

"Captain on the bridge," came the commanding voice of the Enterprise's first officer which caused Jim to groan internally. Spock was a good First Officer; that was something Kirk would tell anyone who asked or thought otherwise, but the Vulcan was too obsessed with rules and regulations for Kirk's liking. As Captain he wanted his crew to respect him, of course he did, but he wanted them to do it of their own free will and not because Starfleet dictated it. Jim found that the protocol instated by Starfleet which was designed to make sure the Captain was shown respect only served to alienate him and his crew. This was the last thing Jim wanted to happen. Of course he had brought this up with Spock on several occasions but it was to no avail.

Kirk sat in the Captain's chair and began to subconsciously massage his shoulder. "Status Mr Sulu?"

"Since your meeting with the Andorians yesterday we have established a method for ceasing the abnormal seismic activity on the surface of Andoria, all we need now is your approval and we can begin sir." Kirk nodded and picked up his PADD before finding the file and scanning over it. If his head hadn't suddenly begun to throb causing his brain to feel like it was made of sponge he knew he would have understood most of the scientific jargon. But as it happened he didn't really feel like trying to decipher the file he should understand so he went for the next best thing.

"Mr Spock, as my First Officer I presume that you have read through this?"

"Yes Captain," Spock replied walking over to the Captain's chair and standing behind it.

"Good, what do you make of it."

"The proposition is logical, in my estimation there is only a 3% chance that this will fail."

"And if it does fail?"

"The moon will continue to undergo the same seismic activity."

"So basically you're saying that we should go through with this?"

"Yes Captain." Kirk nodded to Sulu who headed off along with Chekhov down to engineering to find Scotty.

"Captain, may I enquire as to your state of health?" Spock asked as soon as the two men had left the bridge. Jim groaned.

"Has Bones set you up to spy on me?" Jim quipped.

"No Captain, I do believe that would go against his ethical code of conduct."

"Don't underestimate him," the Captain muttered under his breath.

"The reason I ask, Captain, is that you appear to be in pain and did not read the proposition."

"Ah, see the thing is Spock that was laziness and not illness. I couldn't be arsed reading it."

"As Captain…"

"As Captain," interrupted Jim irritably, "Instead of wasting time dissecting every part of the file I asked my Science Officer's opinion, which I would trust with my life, so we could get the operation underway." Spock nodded and walked back to his station, as the humans said, pick your battles.

* * *

Jim groaned loudly before collapsing onto his bed, that had been a hell of a shift. They'd managed to sort out the problem on Andoria with very few issues. But since Kirk was the Captain he felt obliged to oversee the entire procedure which had meant fourteen hours on the bridge. That itself didn't bother him too much. But it meant he was in Spock's company for fourteen hours and he seemed to be in one of those moods where he second guessed everything which came out of the Captain's mouth. Then the noise of the bridge had merely exacerbated his head ache forcing it into a full blown migraine which one of the crew, most likely a certain green-blooded crew member, had apparently noticed and reported to the good doctor. Thankfully he'd managed to dodge being dragged down to medlab to be treated by the hypo-happy doctor by promising to have dinner with him that evening, a promise he was beginning to regret. What with the migraine he was beginning to feel nauseous.

One hour later he heard the overly-cheery chime from his door causing him the scramble up from his horizontal position on the bed silently cursing himself for falling asleep when he'd intended to have a shower. As quickly as his sore muscles would allow him he made his way to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face before shouting, "Come," to allow the doctor entry.

"What the hell were you doing in here which meant you had to leave me standing in the corridor for so long?" the doctor demanded as he hurried into Jim's quarters.

"Nice to see you too Bones," Jim said as he emerged from the bathroom, drying his face with a towel before chucking it on his bed to deal with later. The doctor looked up at his friend and frowned, the man looked like death warmed up.

"Are you alright Jim?" The Captain nodded suddenly grateful they were actually going to dinner; at least there his friend would not be armed with a tricorder. If he was he would surely be able to tell how much pain he was in and that merely the idea of food made his stomach cramp uncomfortably, and that he was so tired his eyes felt like they were aching

"Fine, just a little tired, shall we go?" Bones looked at him critically but soon conceded; that was a battle which he would not win.

Despite Jim's general dislike for doctors he really did enjoy spending time with Bones so he forced himself to ignore the discomfort he was in. He may have only eaten half of his soup (which he was confident the doctor had noticed but thankfully he neglected to mention) but he was glad he went. Since Jim became Captain and Bones became CMO they got fewer and fewer opportunities to see each other due to all of their other responsibilities. But whatever was wrong was becoming increasingly hard to hide because he was just feeling awful and his chest almost felt like it was burning, he must be coming out in a rash.

It must have been about 0000 hours when Jim and Bones arrived at his quarters laughing together. The Captain inputted his code and then turned around to his friend to say goodnight to see his face transformed from the mirthful look of just moments ago to one full of concern. "Goodnight Bones," said Jim and made to quickly get into his quarters because he knew what would be coming if he didn't.

"Hold up," the doctor ordered. "What's wrong Jim? And don't say you're fine because I know for a fact you're not." There was a pause while Kirk tried to think of something witty to say but he could come up with nothing.

"But I _am_ fine," he whined childishly.

"The hell you are," Bones growled before softening his voice. "Look, let's take a quick trip up to medlab so I can give you a once over, it shouldn't take more than 20 minutes."

"No Bones," replied Jim irritably. "I'm tired and all I want to do is go to sleep."

"Fine," the doctor grumbled, not even attempting to keep the irritability out of his voice. "Just come and see me if anything gets any worse." With that he stalked off to his own quarters leaving Jim in blissful silence.

* * *

It was the screeching of the alarm which snapped Jim back into the real world causing him to sit up abruptly in his bed which did nothing for his symptoms which, contrary to what he had hoped would happen, had not abated overnight. His stomach rolled uncomfortably within him, his vision blurred dangerously and his head exploded into a whole new region of pain. The burning sensation on his chest which he had been experiencing the day before seemed to have spread across his entire torso now and had increased in intensity ten-fold. And his eyes felt dry and itchy just to top it all off.

The Captain violently scratched at his body willing to make the painfully uncomfortable sensation to just go away whilst he waited for his vision to clear and for his stomach to calm the hell down. If he were to be honest he wanted nothing more than to fall back into bed and not to do a shift on the bridge. But he was Captain, he was needed on the bridge so he sure as hell would be on the bridge, illness and Bones be damned.

Eventually he managed to force himself to stumble into the bathroom and peel off the uniform he had accidentally fallen asleep in. He caught a sideways glimpse of himself in the mirror as he switched the shower on and then did a double take, not quite believing what he was seeing. His entire chest, torso and, upon closer inspection, his back were covered in a bright red rash which was hot to the touch. He could see it was beginning to make its way up his neck and down his legs. Angry scratch mark could be seen from earlier and small beads of blood were beginning to well up inside of them. And to top it off the whites of his eyes were also turning a rather unattractive shade of red. All in all, he looked more like a zombie than the Captain of the Federation's flagship. Briefly he considered that perhaps he had developed an allergy for something in the uniform which wouldn't be surprising but he didn't think he could cope with Bones grumbling because he's have to be the one to try and find a suitable alternative.

Ignoring the protests he could feel from all his muscles he stepped into the shower. Despite the fact his muscles were incredibly tight and sore he had made the water temperature pretty low and it felt heavenly on the large rash which was hastily growing all over him. That was the advantage of being a commanding officer; he could opt to have a water shower as opposed to those stupid sonic things. After five minutes he had to prop himself up against the wall of the shower, how he was going to make it through an entire shift on the bridge he didn't know.

It took Kirk an inordinate amount of time to get dried and dressed after his shower as he did it in such a way to avoid exacerbating his symptoms any further. So when he eventually managed to walk onto the bridge he was five minutes late for his shift which, of course, Spock noticed. After the expected shout of, "Captain on the bridge," The First Officer followed the Captain to his chair. Kirk looked up expectantly at the Vulcan knowing full well all he wanted to do was tell Jim how improper it was for the captain to be late for his shift, especially without prior warning. However the Vulcan seemed to be considering his words carefully and Jim waited, quite intrigued. Eventually he spoke. "If you are not well captain it would not be wise for you to remain on the bridge. A more logical course of action would for you to go down to medical." Jim sighed and began to scratch at his chest, the last of the cooling effects of the water having worn off.

"I am fine Mr Spock."

"I fear your definition of fine probably is not the same as mine then Captain."

"If I felt that I was not fit for command I would have relinquished it by now. I care about this ship and her crew too much to let her be looked after someone who is incapable even if that person is me. I am a bit tired I will admit but am still more than capable of commanding." At this Spock nodded and went to carry on with whatever he had been doing when Jim first went onto the bridge. And that was the last of it, or so Kirk had hoped.

It was a couple of hours later that things got really bad. Jim was trying to read a report on his PADD but it was getting really very difficult to concentrate. He now had to put in a conscious effort to not throw up. His entire body and legs were now covered in the rash, he could feel it, and he had to fight each second to not scratch because if he started he would never be able to stop and he didn't want to worry his crew. His head was pounding and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He wasn't sure if it was the migraine or the stinging sensation which made it too painful to keep his eyes open for more than two seconds which was causing his vision to blur. So in reality Jim was not reading anything on his PADD, he was merely holding it so nobody would try and talk to him because he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't throw up if he opened his mouth.

As Jim stared at the screen he felt something dripping from his eyes and rolling down his face. His eyes must be watering, considering how painful they were it was about time. Without really thinking about it he lifted his fingers to his face and wiped away the liquid. When he pulled his hand away, instead of being coated in salt water as he had expected, his fingers were coated in a crimson liquid. Surprised Kirk lifted his hand to his eye only to discover more blood on it. "Crap," he muttered to himself. "That can't be good."

"Mr Spock!" he called after taking a deep breath, raising the PADD higher so nobody could see his face but it looked as if he was engrossed by what was on the screen when in reality he couldn't make out a single letter. "I need to see you for a minute." It seemed that the Vulcan was at his side instantly and for once Jim was grateful for this. All it took was for Jim to look at his second in command for him to crouch down in front of his captain, his face was impassive as always but his actions betrayed his concern. "Uhura, contact medical and ask Dr McCoy to come up here would you?" he asked.

"No," Jim intervened. "It's ok, I can walk."

"Really?" Spock asked critically whilst standing up and offering a hand to Jim which he took, a testament to how sick he must have been. The attention of the entire bridge was now on their Captain although he seemed oblivious to it.

Apparently the movement had disagreed with Jim more than either he or Spock had anticipated for as soon as he had stood up vertically he doubled over, emptying the meagre contents of his stomach onto the pristine white floor. The only thing that prevented him falling face first into his own vomit was Spock's strong arm. "Uhura!" he shouted with an urgency which was rarely heard in the Vulcan's voice. "Dr McCoy now, tell him to bring a stretcher.

She did as she was told only to receive a few choice words on Dr McCoy's part which weren't aimed at her but at the universe in general. Whilst this was going on Spock had managed to lay the sick Captain on his side in case he vomited again. Blood was now dripping from both of his eyes and the young man was moaning in pain, scratching viciously and almost frantically at his body. "Keep your eyes closed Captain," Spock ordered. When Kirk didn't reply but instead kept on blinking Spock forced his eyelids shut with his fingers causing a small grunt of pain from his friend and his blood to mar his pale skin.

It felt like an eternity to everyone on the bridge before Bones arrived with two nurses and a stretcher. An eternity where they were forced to watch the Captain they'd come to trust and even consider their friend to moan in pain as he succumbed to his illness. Eventually Bones did arrive, swearing under his breath when he saw Jim knowing exactly what was wrong when he saw the blood coming from his eyes. Instantly he was by his friend's side forcing his eyelids open to get an idea of the damage, he hissed in sympathy before closing his eyes again. "Bones?"

"Yeah, it's me. I thought I told you to come and see me if you felt any worse," came the gruff and scolding voice of McCoy in full on doctor mode.

"And what did you expect to happen?" Kirk asked, his voice starting to slur slightly. McCoy signalled the nurses to bring the stretcher across.

"Fair enough, although you have made a bit of a mess of your bridge." The doctor began to run a tricorder over his friend and frowned at the read-outs.

"Spock can clean it up." At this Spock quirked his eyebrow and Bones chuckled gently. He and a nurse quickly lifted Jim onto the stretcher causing a groan of pain from the young man and they began to hurriedly make their way to the turbo lift.

"You're an idiot, have I ever told you that?" Bones asked.

"Mm, once or twice."

"I would have hoped it's sunk in by now."


	2. Not So Calm

_Oh. My. Goodness. I have been quite literally overwhelmed by the response this first chapter got. You are all beautiful people. So thank you to those of you who have added this to your favourites/alerts list or have reviewed (you especially have a special place in my heart). And thank you for those of you who have thought this is worth reading past the first chapter. So, here is the next instalment, I sincerely hope I haven't ruined it. And please, once again, do drop a review. I do love to hear what you lovely people think of my writing. _

**Andorian Shingles**

**Chapter 2- Not so calm**

The whirring and beeping of machinery filled the bridge which, for once, was completely void of chatter. All of the crew simply remained at their stations. Many still had their hands hovering over control panels while Chekhov and Sulu had spun their seats around, for once paying only enough attention to the helm to know if there was going to be some kind of impending disaster. They were all focussed on the empty chair. Without the big personality which usually occupied it the chair was just that. A chair. Spock's attention soon turned to the floor, to the vile concoction of vomit mixed with a small amount of blood. That was most unsanitary; it would need to be cleaned up.

_Spock can clean it up._

Why did the Captain insist on joking at such a time as that, when most humans would be crying in pain? Well, he presumed Kirk was joking; it would be illogical for the Captain to wish him, the ship's First Officer, to clean up such a mess when they had a maintenance department on board. However he had been wrong when it came to human humour before…

"He was joking," Uhura called to Spock, obviously he had been staring and the foul puddle for a while and she had worked out what he was thinking. He nodded his thanks to her.

"Lieutenant Uhura, would you contact maintenance and ask them to send someone to clean this up?"

"Done so already," she responded, turning back to her station. There was another brief moment of silence, something which never happened when their captain was on the bridge. Finally Chekhov spoke up. "I hope ze Keptin vill be ok," he commented, vocalising what all of the crew on the bridge were thinking. Spock sensed that the crew needed guidance now more than ever. "I shall go to sickbay in one hour to check on the Captain, until then I ask that you all continue as normal." With that the bridge seemed to stutter back into life but the air of concern remained, nobody could forget the sight of their captain being held up by his First Officer to prevent him falling into his own vomit whilst his eyes streamed with blood.

* * *

It was no secret that Jim Kirk hated hospitals or any area which was associated with medical treatment. It was a dislike which had caused Bones an incredible amount of bother in the past as he tried to patch Jim up without the equipment he deemed necessary because the idiot refused to go and seek out proper treatment. However, Kirk now knew that being taken to medlab was at least three times worse when you couldn't actually see anything.

When he was being taken down to medlab it wasn't too bad. He knew his ship well enough to know exactly where he was at any given moment which meant he knew roughly what was going on. The winding corridors were all familiar to him and they all felt like home providing him with an odd sense of comfort and security. But as soon as he arrived in medlab it was a whole different ball game, he was way out of his comfort zone. There were people moving past the stretcher, obviously busy doing something which involved him but he had no idea what. The noise surrounded him, medical terminology was being thrown about liberally but he couldn't quite get his head around what was being said. The noise swirled around him into a cacophony of sound which was indecipherable to him. Though he would never admit it to anyone, the fact he was unaware of what was going on unnerved him deeply. In desperation to know what was happening he pried his eyes apart, having to swallow a scream at the sensation of lasers boring through his eyeballs.

"Shut your damn eyes you idiot," came the distinctive voice of Dr McCoy, the only man who had the ability to sound frustrated, irritated and concerned all at once effectively drowning out the dreadful sound which had been plaguing him only moments earlier. The captain didn't need to be told twice, he was beginning to feel nauseous from the pain. He couldn't even make anything out either; it was all merely a blur of colours with smudges dressed in blue constantly moving around him. "There really is no point in you opening your eyes, trust me, you aren't going to be charming any women with them any time soon." Jim chuckled painfully but then sighed in relief as he felt something cool and refreshing being draped across his closed eyelids. It was designed to soothe and it did just that, the burning sensation dissipated slightly providing him with some very welcome relief. Typically his body decided that he needed more punishing though, because obviously he hadn't been put through enough already, his stomach cramped causing Kirk to sit up abruptly. "For goodness sake Jim, lie down, you're not going anywhere."

"Bones, I…" Something in his voice obviously betrayed him because only moments later he felt something being shoved under his chin just in time. Jim Kirk had actually sounded vulnerable and it shocked the doctor, he sounded so young, never would he forget that voice. The Captain didn't have a lot to bring up, he just dry heaved mostly, spitting bitter bile into the bowl every so often. Bones' hand rested on the back of his neck, his fingers were calloused from years of handling surgical tools. Without even realising it Jim relaxed into the touch and it had a somewhat calming effect on him. Eventually he was done and the bowl was removed. A cloth was placed in his hands. "Wipe your face with that," ordered a nurse with a distinctive but pleasant Irish accent. Wordlessly he obeyed, suddenly feeling far too tired to argue.

"Right, Jim, I want to get you onto the biobed now, can you stand or do you need us to lift you?"

"I'm not an invalid," Jim growled. He hated medlab and this was one of the many reasons why, people treated him like he was about to break, but he was the Captain of a Starship dammit. Slowly he swung his legs around over the edges of the stretcher, wincing as the material of his uniform shifted across the hot, dry skin underneath almost as if it were being scoured by sandpaper instead of simply being in contact with fabric. "Easy does it," reassured the doctor, removing whatever it was from his face that had been keeping the pain in his eyes just about bearable. As soon it was removed the pain came back with a vengeance. When he was little he'd managed to get pepper spray in his eyes and even that would have been preferable to what he were feeling, hell, he wanted to gouge out his eyeballs just to make the pain go way. He raised trembling hands up to his eyes instinctively only to have them pulled away by his best friend.

"It's alright; I'll put something more permanent on them once we've got you situated," Bones reassured, wincing as he saw the blood which covered his friend's fingertips. It was a lot more effort for him to keep the worry out of his voice than he'd thought it would. He couldn't let Jim know how concerned he was, the man got nervous enough when taken into a medical setting, but now there was a very real possibility of him going blind. He couldn't risk the man having a panic attack.

"When did you get so nice?" Jim groaned as he began to shuffle himself to the edge of the stretcher, eyes firmly closed to prevent another onslaught of pain.

"Oh don't worry," Bones commented as casually as he could whilst sitting on the stretcher next to his friend and hauling his arm over his shoulder. "Once you're feeling better you and I are going to have a nice chat in my office."

Jim felt a gentle tug on his arm and he took it as his cue to stand which was far more difficult than he'd anticipated. His muscles protested at being used, positively screaming at him to stop, merely adding to the miasma of pain he was in. But he was the Captain for a reason and one of those reasons was that he never gave up in the face of adversity, even if that adversity was his own body. All the while he could hear Bones talking, what he was saying was not designed to reassure but distract; something he was incredibly grateful for. "And do you know what we're going to talk about Jim? Your health and about when it is and when it is not appropriate to see your CMO. In your case if you so much as think maybe there is something is wrong you should come and see me because if you think something is up it probably means your arm is hanging half off or something."

Jim pushed on for what could have only have been a few feet but he could have walked the distance of continental Europe for how exhausted it left him. Though he was loathe admitting it he knew that if it weren't for McCoy's support he would have collapsed into a puddle of sick Starfleet Captain on the floor if he'd even managed to get off the stretcher at all.

Eventually he collapsed onto the biobed, each time he lay on one he was always surprised at how comfortable they were considering how they looked. He could hear something beeping above him. "Bones, what's going on?" he asked hoping the man would realise quite how much he didn't like being able to see what was happening. Suddenly the cool thing was dropped over his eyes again and he sighed in pleasure, visibly relaxing as the inferno within his eyeballs dissipated somewhat. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," replied Bones, the beeping was still going on in the background and it already irritated Jim. "I'm just calibrating the biobed, what you're hearing is your heartbeat." There were a few moments in which nothing was said and then Bones' frustrated voice reverberated throughout the whole of sickbay. It was a tone of voice which was especially reserved when he was angry at the Captain. Kirk could practically hear all of the nurses scurrying away to avoid ending up as collateral damage and all of the other patients, if there were any others, pretending to be asleep.

"Dammit Jim, you're hot." A wicked grin spread across Kirk's pallid and exhausted features and he turned his head to where he thought McCoy's voice had come from.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he joked. He really didn't feel up to joking but that's what he'd normally do and he wanted to at least pretend things were normal. He didn't like sickbay and he didn't like having to rely on other people; that had never ended well for him in the past.

"Shut up, this is serious," McCoy retorted, not keeping up the banter like Jim hoped he would. The man sounded angry and it unnerved Kirk. But now he could feel Bones sitting on the edge of the biobed trying to calm himself down. That never worked for the doctor for long, he was permanently frustrated at everyone around him.

"Look, I'm sorry." Kirk could hear the tension in his friend's voice which Kirk knew meant that his condition was worse than the doctor was letting on. He felt his stomach do a flip within him but he swallowed, forcing himself not to throw up yet again. "I didn't mean to lose it with you, it's just, aw dammit kid this could be serious. And it's not even just this shingles business, there actually is a cure. It's just…"

"I'm allergic," Jim finished.

"Got it in one," McCoy muttered and Jim could hear him rubbing his face in his hands. "I'm gonna try and patch you up as best as I can but this is going to take quite a while for you to get over." To this Kirk waved his hand dismissively in Bones' general direction.

"And they said it's take me eight years to get my own ship." To this the doctor chuckled.

"Look, I need to get a look at that rash. I'm just going to cut that uniform off you; it'll be easier than trying to manoeuvre you out of it."

This was a plan that the Captain most certainly did not like the sound of. Cautiously he tried to sit up but was immediately pushed down by firm hands. "Lie down," Bones ordered in his no nonsense voice. "Don't worry about the uniform; you can replicate another one when you're better."

"Have you got a nurse who can do it?" Kirk mumbled as exhaustion began to take over but he still wanted to attempt to lighten the mood. However his friend simply did not want to play ball.

"Jim, if you so much as try anything with any of my staff I will take great pleasure of looking down that long list of medications which you are allergic to and then mixing a cocktail of a select few of them. I will then inject them into you and enjoy watching as you fall into anaphylactic shock and will only pull you out of it so I can inject you with the cocktail over and over again. Understand?"

"Touchy," Jim hissed as he raised his hand absentmindedly to scratch at his stomach but Bones instantly swatted his hands away.

"I have mittens somewhere in the store cupboard and I will surgically attach them if that's what is necessary, so don't scratch." Kirk stiffened as he felt the slight pull at his shirt and then the inevitable snip as scissors sliced through fabric. "And who could blame me for being touchy? I just found out my friend has Andorian Shingles and is allergic to the very thing that would make him better. I mean seriously Jim; I did warn you about this illness when we first met and then typically you went and had to go and catch it didn't you? Of all the things you had to catch. Have you been sitting there at your desk thinking _how can I make Bones life more of a living hell?_ Because I have to tell ya, you struck gold with this one." Bones stopped talking whilst he pulled the now decimated fabric away from his friend's pale skin and he let out a hiss, of both sympathy and annoyance, as he did so. "Oh, and then you thought you'd leave it until the rash spread all over your body. I've got to congratulate you there kid, that's real smart."

His patient mumbled something indignantly but Bones was no longer listening. He was too preoccupied with examining the rash in the man's torso. It no longer simply looked red and sore, small patches of skin were already beginning form bubbles which were putrid and full of pus. Quickly he snapped on some gloves and began to probe the worse areas with his fingers and he could feel Jim tensing under his touch. A simple glance at the monitors told Bones all he needed to know, Jim was stressed and stress was something he could definitely do without.

The Captain knew what was going to happen before Bones said anything; he'd recognise the click of a hypo being loaded anywhere. He'd been on the receiving end of surprise attacks, thanks to Bones, enough to become sensitive to any indication that he was about to be subjected to what he believed to be an evil contraption. "Bones I…"

"This is going to be a long and painful examination and you obviously need some rest. This'll knock you out for a couple of hours and when you wake up I'll fill you in." Blindly Jim groped for his friend's hand to try and stop the doctor from sedating him but Bones easily avoided the search and quickly dispersed the sedative into Kirk's bloodstream. In response to the hiss Jim groaned loudly and went very limp, the doctor felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He didn't like having to do that but it really was for the best. The examination would have caused his friend far too much pain and stress which in his current condition he might not be able to handle. Steeling himself Bones set about trying to fix his friend, something he seemed to spend most of his life doing.


	3. Disease and Danger

_I truly as sorry that I took so long to update this. I wanted to get another chapter of my Sherlock fic up and then real life got in the way as it unfortunately tends to do. But, the new chapter is up now and I hope that it was worth the wait. I knew what I wanted to write for this chapter but I found it difficult to actually put it down so that it made sense. So I hope it worked. Please let me know what you think in a review, I do always get excited when I receive a review! So if you leave me one I hope you realise that you will have made my day. _

**Andorian Shingles**

**Chapter 3- Disease and Danger**

Spock walked swiftly through the corridors of the Enterprise, his back was ramrod straight and his arms were clasped neatly behind his back. Other crew members jumped out of his way when they saw him coming but he barely noticed as he was wrapped up in his thoughts which were focussed on his captain. He'd always known that he had an aversion to sickbay; everyone on the bridge had witnessed Dr McCoy on more than one occasion practically chasing the Captain around the bridge and then dragging him down to sickbay for his physicals. But now it was obvious that this was more than a simple dislike. The image of the Captain bleeding from the eyes was disturbing to say the least and Spock had no desire to relive it. It was obvious that the crew on the bridge were worried about the captain, several times people had requested to go down and check on him and he'd only been gone for an hour, it spoke volumes of their loyalty to Kirk.

When he made it down to sickbay there was a privacy screen activated around one of the beds which the First Officer decided must belong to Kirk. He walked over and was very conscious of the noise his shoes made on the hard floor as the rest of sickbay was eerily quiet; there were always more people around than this. "May I enter," Spock enquired through the screen and there was a huff of confirmation which evidently came from Dr McCoy.

As a half Vulcan Spock was supposed to be able to mask any emotions which he felt but even he could not help but wince at the sight of the Captain. He was lying unconscious on the biobed with a blanket covering his lower half. His abdomen, chest and arms were ridden in pus filled sores which seemed to keep going under the blanket, they looked painful and as if they were about to burst. His face which had been deathly pale up on the bridge was becoming red and splotchy; the parts he could see at any rate, and appeared to be going the same way as the rest of his body. And then there was McCoy, the gruff doctor who was tentatively placing and ointment which was quickly absorbed over all of the sores.

"Is there any point in me enquiring as to the health of the Captain or is he as well as he looks?" Spock asked, ensuring his voice was maintained in a neutral tone.

"Yeah, he's about as good as he looks. He's got a bit of a fever which has gone up by a couple of points of a degree since he got down here. The rash is spreading pretty rapidly and he's suffering from nausea and vertigo. But it's all very typical of this illness. You can tell the crew up on the bridge he'll survive to command another day so long as he follows the normal course of the illness, which is Andorian Shingles by the way. I'm going to send a nurse up soon to do vaccinations." Spock nodded his head in thanks.

"Please keep me updated on the Captain's condition." And with that he strode off, making his way back up to the bridge.

* * *

It was the smell he was aware of first; the strong and choking scent of antiseptic assaulted his nostrils and seemed to burn all of the way down to his lungs. He could taste it too, foul and clinical, so he coughed trying to rid himself of what felt like poison. But once he had started coughing there was nothing he could do to stop again. Each cough was violent and painful causing his back to arch and all of his muscles to clench tightly. All of his joints protested at the sudden jostling making it harder for him to breathe thus making the coughing worse; it was a vicious cycle. It wasn't just his joints though, each time he coughed it was like his head was about to explode. It wasn't long before he began to feel weak and dizzy, perhaps if he fell back into unconsciousness he'd be able to escape all this pain.

Suddenly something was thrust over his mouth and nostrils and it felt so gloriously refreshing. He sighed in relief as his coughs quickly abated into nothing and he lay there simply enjoying the sensation of being able to get enough oxygen into his body. Tentatively he raised his hand to feel what it was on his face which was making him feel so much better because he couldn't see it. Jim's hand froze so that it was hovering halfway between the bed and his face. Crap. How hadn't he noticed? How does someone not notice that they can't see anything? Surely that would be one of the first things someone would notice after regaining consciousness. No matter how hard he tried there seemed there was nothing he could do to open his eyes so he did what anyone else in his situation would do. He began to panic.

Something in his mind snapped, if he couldn't see he wouldn't be able to carry on as captain of the Enterprise and he didn't know what he'd do if he lost his commission. Kirk could feel his heart pounding violently in his ears as he suddenly sat up, ramrod straight, his breathing heavy despite the oxygen mask on his face. In the back of his mind he registered that there was an alarm going off somewhere but he was too busy to worry. All he could focus on was regaining his sight.

Once again the man raised his hands to his face but they were stopped by another pair of hands which felt familiar. "Jim, calm down, you're in sickbay, you're alright," came the familiarly gruff voice of his best friend.

"Bones," Jim gasped, holding tightly onto the doctor's hands, the panic causing him to bypass the part of his brain which would usually prevent him from showing such neediness. "I can't see, crap, I can't see. Please Bones," Jim begged, his voice was pleading and there was a hint of desperation in there which caused the doctor even more worry. Jim didn't beg; it wasn't in his nature to do so. A glance at the display on the biobed revealed that Jim had a fever, not dangerously high but definitely higher than McCoy would want it to be. But now he had a bit of a quandary. If this were any other patient, except perhaps Spock who wouldn't have been panicking in the first place, he would be very sensitive, in that situation he would have simply been Dr McCoy. But this was Jim so not only did he have to be Dr McCoy but also Bones, Jim's friend. And the young Starfleet captain relied on his friendship with the doctor remaining the same as everything else around him changed, and that meant he relied on their constant banter and ribbing of each other. If that changed now he'd think there was something seriously wrong, which there was, but he didn't need to know that, not while he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Listen to me Jim, you're not blind but I've had to bandage up your eyes. This could have easily been prevented if you weren't so damn stubborn and you had come to see me when you first knew something was wrong. Going by the look of you I'd say you knew there was something wrong a good few days ago. But you couldn't be normal and actually tell me, my jobs hard enough without you trying to make me play 'spot the sick captain'. So don't think you'll get any sympathy from me now, so damn well listen to me and lie down and maybe I won't kill you myself when this is all over."

His little speech seemed to have the desired effect on his friend who, despite having his head swathed in bandages to keep the patches on his eyes in place and an oxygen mask obscuring most of his face, still managed to look incredulous. His heart rate was still up but it was beginning to decrease much to the doctor's relief and his breathing had once again become steady. "Starfleet might have something to say if you kill their youngest captain," Kirk rasped, lifting the mask off his face feeling the need to defend himself at least a little from Bones' tirade. His hands were soon swiped away by frustrated ones and the mask was put back in place.

"Shut up Jim, you're not going to be charming anyone with that voice today I'm afraid, nor are you going to be charming anyone with those looks so lie down and get your beauty sleep."

"Just because you're jealous of my good looks doesn't need to be insulting," Kirk rebutted causing the doctor to glare at him despite the fact he knew full well the younger man couldn't see him.

"Seriously Jim," Bones growled in annoyance, "Lie down and rest before I sedate you again." He could see the Captain's body shaking with the effort of staying upright and knew he was exhausted despite the façade he put in place. This time he listened, either because he had run out of witty retorts or simply because speaking had become far too much effort. "And don't scratch," Bones added, his voice carrying more than a hint of annoyance, as he swatted Jim's hands away from his sore ridden skin. "I will make good on that promise of finding the mittens if you're not careful, either that or I'll be wheeling out the stasis unit."

* * *

Gradually throughout the rest of the day Kirk's temperature climbed as did Bones' concern for his friend. The Captain, who usually wouldn't entertain even the thought of rest when he was ill, had slept through most of alpha shift, the whole of beta shift and he was beginning to sleep through gamma. By the time gamma shift came around McCoy was practically dead on his feet having worked for two shifts yet he was reluctant to leave medical to get some sleep. It wasn't that he doubted the doctor on duty's medical capability; he simply doubted his ability to deal with Jim if he woke up in a difficult mood. In the end he decided just to collapse on his couch in his office, he'd contemplated sleeping in a chair next to Jim's bed so he could keep an eye on his temperature and administer more antipyretics if he had to, but then Chekhov had wandered into sickbay and took up vigil over his Captain.

During gamma shift the lights in sickbay were dimmed in an attempt to make it easier for patients to get into a regular sleeping pattern. Kirk had always thought that it was a stupid idea, as Starfleet Officers they were all used to sleeping at irregular times so what was the point in starting when you were ill? On some level McCoy knew where the Captain was coming from but as he lay on the sofa he was grateful for the reduced light as he very quickly fell asleep.

It was in this reduced light that Chekhov sat watching his Captain sleeping. It was most unusual to see the Captain so still, normally he was practically brimming with energy, taking any excuse to get up and move around. It didn't matter if it was simply to walk across the bridge to look at a monitor or going down on a planet's surface on an away mission. The young navigator hadn't thought it possible for the vibrant man before him to be so still. He sat back in the chair and let out a loud sigh, despite having gotten some sleep after his shift on the bridge he still felt pretty tired. In the gloom of gamma shift he watched the gentle rising and falling of his Captain's and his friend's chest and listened to the gentle hum of sickbay and he soon felt himself beginning to drift.

A little while later, the young genius didn't know how long it was, he was brought sharply back to reality by a choked scream which came from the bed next to him. He shot up from the chair, instantly on alert as they had been taught in the Academy. He saw Kirk writhing around on the biobed. The young man looked in awful pain, his face was screwed up and contorted in agony and he was digging his finger nails viciously into his arms. They were quickly tainted red with blood and angry scratch marks were left behind. There was a foul mixture of blood and pus from where he had cut open his sores dripping from his arms. "Keptin, vhat is it Keptin? Are you alright?" Chekhov asked, his accent coming out even thicker than usual due to his panic. But it was as if the Captain was deaf, he just continued thrashing about and tearing at his skin.

"Doktor!" Chekov shouted, distress permeating his voice. "Zere iz something wrong with ze Keptin!" This brought the doctor on duty running and a few moments later McCoy also arrived and stared wide eyed at the monitor on the biobed and cursed under his breath. "Why the hell didn't the alarm go off?" he continued muttering as he wrestled with one of Kirk's arm, he was trying (and failing) to examine it more closely to see what damage had been done. "It's meant to go off at 40 degrees." Whilst Bones was muttering angrily to himself the other doctor was trying to pin down Kirk's other arm to prevent him hurting himself anymore. The Captain was crying out in pain and fear, it was a terrible sound, almost like a constant moan, and it tore at both McCoy's and Chekhov's hearts.

"I need a sedative over here!" McCoy shouted, his voice a mixture of fear and annoyance at the fact that nobody had thought to bring one over as soon as Jim had started to thrash about. "Chekhov, I need to you to try and hold his legs down, he's going to end up hurting himself more." The young man darted across to the bed, eager to help in any way he could, he didn't like standing there helpless whilst everyone else took action. His Captain was strong, even in his sick and weakened state, and the Russian struggled to keep Kirk's legs pinned down and narrowly missed receiving a foot to the face a few times.

"Jim, it's ok, it's Bones and you're in sickbay. Tell me what's wrong." Kirk didn't really seem to register what his friend was saying to him, or even that he was there holding his arms down. He continued to fight against the restraint trying to free his arms so he could scrape his nails along his raw skin. The young man was muttering frantically under his breath and Bones could just make out what he was saying. "Gotta get them off, oh crap they're everywhere. Bones, please get rid of them, they're under my skin!" Well at least he seemed to know that Bones was actually there which was probably more of a relief than it should have been.

"Jim, just wait a few more seconds. Your fever has made you delusional and there is nothing under your skin. I'm gonna knock you out and when you wake up you'll feel a lot better I promise."

A nurse ran up behind McCoy and pressed a hypospray into the hand which wasn't doing battle with Kirk's arm. He briefly glanced at the side to make sure the sedative wasn't going to send Jim into anaphylactic shock, once satisfied that it wasn't going to kill his friend he pressed it into the red and raw skin on the side of the Captain's neck and he instantly went limp. All three of the men let out a sigh of relief, keeping Jim pinned down was hard work. Now all they had to do was reduce the fever and get a dermal regenerator on the painful looking cuts on his arm.

* * *

When he awoke the second time it wasn't such a gradual progression into consciousness as the time before. Instead of slowly becoming aware of his surroundings his senses were assaulted all at once launching him into consciousness violently and unpleasantly. But the worse part of everything was the feeling on his skin, it felt like it was crawling and it was bad enough to almost completely drown out the other unpleasant sensations he was feeling. It was like something was moving under there, his skin was burning, crawling with thousands of tiny legs skittering on and under the surface and he could feel things biting him absolutely everywhere.

Suddenly he cried out as the feeling became infinitely worse and he threw his limbs out in an attempt to get rid of the bugs on his skin. It didn't work no matter how hard he tried they just wouldn't come off and it hurt, it hurt just so damn much. In the back of his mind he heard someone shouting but he didn't really care, he was now focussed on trying to get the bugs out from under his skin. Perhaps if they were released they'd all just go and stop tormenting him. He dug his nails into his skin and his fingers soon became wet and slick with what he presumed was blood. But still his skin crawled and the bugs bit so he dug his nails in harder leaving burning trails across his arms.

He didn't know if it was working or not, he didn't feel that there was any relief but perhaps all of the bugs were coming out now and in a few minutes he'd be rid of them. Once again he reached to scraped bloodied nails across raw skin but then both arms were grabbed and forced onto the bed above him. Viciously he kicked out, trying to get rid of whoever was separating him from his possibility of relief. The crawling on his skin became impossibly worse and he felt a cry of pain being torn from his lips. The Captain's back arched and he fought against whatever was restraining his arms in blind fear. Then there was more shouting and then there was pressure on his legs, pinning them down, which he fought against ferociously. He felt himself almost getting free a few times but after that he'd exhausted himself so his ability to fight was quickly diminishing.

Then suddenly there was a gruff and familiar voice in his ear which settled him slightly even in his terrified and panicked state. "Jim, it's ok, it's Bones and you're in sickbay. Tell me what's wrong." Bones. Bones was here. Bones would fix whatever was wrong, Bones could fix anything. Desperately he tried to communicate what was wrong though he couldn't talk very loud, his throat was painful and burned almost as badly as the rest of his body. Still he writhed against the restraints, still desperate for the slight respite that scratching had given him. It appeared that the doctor heard him as he started speaking again. "Jim, just wait a few more seconds. Your fever has made you delusional and there is nothing under your skin. I'm gonna knock you out and when you wake up you'll feel a lot better I promise." A few moments later he felt something cool being pressed up against his neck and then there was nothing."


	4. Darkness and Silence

_I am sorry this took so long for me to write. I did intend to write it sooner but I just started university so everything is a bit up in the air at the moment. So I will probably be updating less frequently now but don't worry, I have not abandoned ship. Thank you for all of those have reviewed (and those who have favourited or are following this but reviews hold a special place in my heart), I think I replied to all of the reviews I could reply to but if I didn't please realise how much they mean to me. I enjoy writing but it is always nice to know that other people like it when I write too ;) I have been astonished by all the reviews and essentially the response to this fic so thank you everyone who is still reading this. Anyway, as a thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter, as a reward it is a little longer than the others. And on a side note, I have a cold right now and in her review to chapter 3 SpaceGirl13 told me this fic made her feel better about the cold she had so I thought I'd see if this was true. So I know I told a lot of you I was going to be nicer to Jim in this chapter I'm sorry, I lied, I'm being nasty again. But his hurt is a different kind of hurt in this chapter to the rest so I wasn't entirely lying. But it did help me feel better so thank you SpaceGirl13 for this handy hint for curing the common cold. ;) Anyway, enough from me, on with the fic. And please do drop a review once you are done. _

**Andorian Shingles**

**Chapter 4- Darkness and Silence**

When Checkhov went back on duty at Alpha shift he still felt harrowed by his experience in medlab the night before. The young Russian knew he looked awful; he hadn't slept at all when he had made his way back to his quarters after leaving once the Captain had been sedated. Whenever he shut his eyes all he could see was Jim's face contorted in pain. And on the occasions he actually managed to enter the realm between consciousness and sleep he was awoken by the sound of Kirk screaming. At 0500 hours he simply gave up and began reading the proposal for an engine upgrade, that the captain had recently approved, on his PADD.

When he sat down at his station he could feel the eyes of the pilot quietly analysing him. He studiously ignored Sulu's gaze and the man made no comment for which the navigator was thankful. The shift carried on as usual, perhaps Chekhov was a little quieter than usual but there was nothing which should have been a cause for alarm. However, about an hour into alpha the ever-perceptive Vulcan decided to bring up the fact he wasn't looking too hot. "Mr Chekhov, do you require a trip to sickbay?" Spock asked from the Captain's chair. Chekhov could feel every eye on the bridge on him and his cheeks quickly heated up and flushed a bright shade of pink. He took a deep breath and span around in his chair to face Spock, looking at the Vulcan straight in the eyes.

"I am fine Meester Spock," he replied politely.

"Are you sure?" came the slightly less polite voice of Sulu from next to him. "Because you look like utter crap."

The navigator hesitated, unsure of how much he should be telling them, especially since the whole bridge crew was watching proceedings. In this way a Starship was just like any other work place, everybody enjoyed seeing a good bit of drama and everybody liked to have something to gossip about. "I am ok," he concluded, but Spock obviously was not buying it. His eyebrow was raised and his head tilted quizzically and Chekhov knew that now there would be no stopping him until he found the answers he sought.

"I would like to remind you that as a member of Starfleet it is your duty to inform your Commanding Officer of any reason you may not be able to perform you job at optimum level lest you endanger the ship or prevent her from running smoothly."

"I am well Sir. I seemply did not sleep vell last night."

"Is this something which requires Dr McCoy's attention?"

"No!" Chekhov shouted annoyed at the interrogation he was receiving but instantly regretted his actions and looked down. "I am sorry Sir," he said more calmly. "I was in Sickbay visiting ze Keptin last night and zen I vent back to my quarters and could not sleep."

Chekhov felt Spock's gaze boring into him, cold and analytical and he did his best to not shrink back from it. "I am to take it something happened to the Captain last night?"

"No, vell yes but I do not theenk he or ze doctor vould vant me to disclose zis information." Spock nodded his head in acceptance of this answer. Smoothly he stood up and walked to the turbolift. Almost, it seemed, as an afterthought he shouted over his shoulder, "Mr Sulu, you have the conn."

* * *

Spock hurried down the corridors although he would not admit to himself that this is what he was doing, he wanted to get to medlab to see what was going on. He'd been down before his shift and the doctor on shift had told him the night was uneventful and Kirk had slept through. Apparently Dr McCoy had stayed around for a while and then headed off to his own quarters.

Upon entering the sickbay Spock was met by the sight of McCoy scanning Kirk who was still lying perfectly still. Unless he looked hard for it he could not actually see the rising and falling of Kirk's chest as he breathed so it was hard to tell that the man was alive at all save for the beeping of the medical equipment monitoring his heartbeat. "Doctor," Spock said to demand the attention of Bones as he headed to the Captain's bed.

"Spock!" McCoy exclaimed in surprise as the Vulcan approached him. "I wasn't expecting to see you down here; I heard you called this morning."

"I did Dr McCoy but something was brought to my attention which I felt required further investigation."

"Oh?" asked the doctor allowing a hint of frustration into his voice. He was busy and Spock's cryptic behaviour was not helping.

"Mr Chekhov alluded to an incident which occurred down here last night involving the Captain. He did not disclose any details but it appeared to have him quite, as you humans put it, shaken. When I was down here this morning I was not informed of any incident."

"Yes, well, I don't want to breach doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Doctor, your loyalty for maintaining the Captain's privacy is admirable but as First Officer I need to be fully aware of the Captain's condition so I can make decisions accordingly."

Bones sighed, knowing Spock was right. Confidentiality was difficult when it came to Starfleet Officers because their health could influence the safety of the ship. If he were to be honest he knew that Spock had every right to be informed of the Captain's health but Jim was his friend and he would feel like he was betraying him. "I'm sorry Spock, I can't tell you."

"You must tell me Doctor; that is an order." Crap, there really was no way he could get out of that one. "Doctor, I would not ask if I did not feel it was important for me to know. The Captain, Jim, is my friend too, I do not wish to go against his wishes but if there is a situation which could affect the ship I need to know about it."

"And what if I told you this would not affect the ship?"

"I would have to tell you that I would need to be the one to determine that. Mr Chekhov was quite shaken and is not performing to optimum level. Therefore I would argue the ship has already been affected. I need to know that there will be no, more serious effects."

"He, um… well last night he had a fever and it spiked during the night. Chekhov was with him when it happened, poor kid. He woke up and began to scratch at his skin; I think he thought there was something under there that he had to get out. Delusional parasitosis, it's not unheard of in patients with a high fever. Anyway we ended up having to sedate him but Chekhov was here so he had to hold down Jim's legs. After he was stable and I knew he wouldn't wake up so I went to bed and ordered all the staff not to tell anyone what happened." The two men looked down sadly at their sedated Captain; Spock had known since he officially began serving under Jim that there was something behind the happy-go-lucky façade he kept firmly in place. Bones was the only one who knew what lay behind the façade and it certainly was not a pretty sight. He felt saddened when he looked at the prone figure on the bed, the twenty-five year old who currently looked no older than Chekhov, who normally behaved like a ten year old but had experienced more pain and loss than most would have to endure in a lifetime. The body Bones was in charge of protecting had already been through so much and it bore the scars to prove it. And even though Jim had opened up to him so much more than anyone else he knew he didn't know the half of it and this saddened him more than he would ever admit to.

"I was just checking him out to make sure he's ok to be woken up when you came in," McCoy stated, picking up the tricorder once again and focussing it over Jim's head. "I think he'll be alright to be woken up, his eyes are starting to heal though we won't be able to get this bandage off for another couple of days but they should be much less painful. His temperature is still high but it shouldn't cause him to be delusional. "Bones picked up the hypospray lying next to Jim's bed and double checked the label, a habit he picked up after almost giving Jim a medicine he was allergic to on more than one occasion, before expertly dispensing the contents into his friend's bloodstream. "It's slow acting," Bones explained to Spock. "The transition back into wakefulness should be much easier for him than with a normal stimulant."

* * *

_The two moons floated high above him, deep red in a sea of blue. Points of light decorated the sky, stars which a small Jim Kirk dreamt of being among as it meant that he would no longer be on the forsaken nightmare planet. The sky looked so beautiful and peaceful, a disturbing contrast to the bloodbath the planet had become. He looked down and saw a loaf of bread clasped tightly between his small hands. An entire loaf! That was more than he and the other children under his care had managed to get their hands on in quite some time. But he knew this meant he had to run, despite the painful hunger which ravaged him, he had to make sure he escaped everyone who had seen him with his prize, someone would have seen, someone always saw. Even adults would be willing to kill the twelve year old simply to get that loaf of bread. _

_So he began to run, ignoring the pain as sharp stones slashed through the toughed skin on the soles of his feet. He could hear feet pounding in the dust behind him so he sprinted as fast as he could, the familiar burning sensation in his chest began and Jim knew he could not keep it up for long. But he had to lose them, whoever they were; otherwise he would lose the bread and possibly his life at the same time. _

_Suddenly he realised that he was no longer pounding his feet on barren soil but rather the cornfields of Iowa. Glancing behind him he saw that it was his stepfather chasing him. If he was caught he would be beaten regardless of whether or not he had done something wrong. Jim desperately wanted to escape but the burning became unbearable as every cell in his body screamed for oxygen, the adrenaline coursing through his veins was no longer enough to sustain him. His bare foot caught on a stone and he felt himself tumbling to the ground. But the young boy did not have the strength to pull himself from the ground as he gasped in the air. Fear overtook him as he felt strong hands close around his neck, his already oxygen deprived body protesting greatly. With his diminished strength he fought instinctively in blind terror._

_Suddenly the pressure on his windpipe was released and he took a deep breath of the cool air; revelling in the feeling of delicious air flowing into his body. But the relief was short lived; there was a sharp chill in the air, biting at his exposed skin painfully. Kirk realised he was back on Delta Vega as he opened his eyes and saw the dull ice around him and the familiar yet older face before him. There was pressure on his face and he felt himself being cast into an emotional turmoil. Kirk knew that despite the Vulcan's ability to maintain control over their emotions they actually felt them much more strongly than humans, they could cope with these strong emotions; their brains were made to cope with such things. On the other hand human brains did not have the neural pathways to deal with such depth and strength of emotions. All of these things Jim knew intellectually but as he felt the pain and the guilt of Spock, as he witnessed and felt the death of his planet and most of his species. And damn did it hurt, it physically hurt. It felt like his head was about to implode, about to get sucked into a black hole just as Vulcan had been. It was difficult for him to breathe and he wasn't sure quite how he would ever get over the pain he felt. _

_When he was eventually released from the mind meld he felt himself being thrown backwards, but instead of hitting ice as he expected he felt himself being flung into a computer panel, feeling incredibly dazed and a strong feeling of remorse lingered, making it difficult for him to register what was going on around him. A face appeared in his eye line, the younger version of Spock with a look of icy rage in his eyes. Once again a firm pressure was placed around his neck and he gasped for air desperately, but the worst part wasn't the fact he could not breathe but the knowledge that he in fact deserved the pain that was being inflicted on him. _

_Kirk's vision became hazy and black dots danced before his eyes as there was no longer sufficient oxygen reaching his brain. But unexpectedly the pressure stopped leaving the Captain to lie there gasping for air. But as soon as he regained full use of his sight he saw why Spock was no longer trying to kill him. Kahn was there, squeezing Spock's head viciously and his First Officer seemed incapacitated and unable to protect himself. Kirk tried to rescue Spock but he was no match for the super human, especially in his weakened state. But Vulcan had been lost; he couldn't let another Vulcan die. He could do nothing to help the Vulcan so he shouted to his bridge crew, none of whom seemed to even know he was there. "Captain, help me," Spock gasped desperately and it broke Kirk's heart even more. If Spock was pleading then the pain must be bad. There was a crack and Kirk's mind emptied of all things except the sickly crunching of bone and the laugh Kahn let out as Spock's limp body flopped to the floor. Rushing forward Kirk knelt at his friend's side, trying to help him even though he knew he was dead, the copious amount of green blood indicating as much._

_The Captain remained by Spock's side, somehow unable to move as Kahn worked his way around the rest of the crew on the bridge, systematically killing everyone that Kirk cared about. Sulu, Uhura and Scotty were the first to go, each of them dropped to the floor begging Kirk to help them but he was unable to and he could feel silent tears rolling down his cheeks as blood began to soak the deck. None of the crew seemed to notice that there was something wrong until Kahn was killing them no matter how much Jim tried to warn them, and he just couldn't understand. Chekhov whimpered as the strong hands of Kahn began to put pressure on his skull, he looked so young and terrified, and he too begged Jim for help. Jim couldn't watch as Kahn cracked his skull and blood spilled from under the skin dyeing his light hair a deep shade of red. He couldn't stop himself being sick as he heard the flop of his young body as it dropped to the floor._

_Kahn's footsteps echoed through the bridge and Jim looked up, his heart sinking. The evil man approached Bones and all Jim could do was watch, he no longer could even call out to warn his best friend. The man's normal, grumpy expression transformed into one of pure terror as the hands closed around his head and began to squeeze and squeeze until there was the characteristic crunch. Bones had not begged for help, he just looked at Kirk with trust, believing the man would get him out of his predicament, never doubting the captain once despite the terror he was feeling. But Kirk had let him down. Instead of trust those eyes looked at him vacantly, the usual carefully controlled kindness which resided in there was gone. It was gone; Bones was dead because he couldn't even save his best friend. _

* * *

"Doctor, I do believe he is having a nightmare."

"Yes Spock, I am aware, there is nothing I can do about that unfortunately, we need to let the stimulant run its course." It pained Bones greatly to see his friend in such pain, when they had been sharing in the Academy nightmares were common for Jim, happening at least twice a week, more so when Jim was stressed with exams or something like that. It became a sort of ritual, Jim would start thrashing around or mumbling until it woke McC oy, the doctor would stumble out of bed, shake Jim awake, ask him if he wanted to talk about it and then stumble back into bed when Jim said no.

But this looked like something worse than it usually was; McCoy couldn't put his finger on it but somehow this was worse. The doctor pulled a stool over to the side of the bed and sat down. He began to run large but gentle hands through his friend's hair trying to calm him down as the nightmare ravaged him, causing him to cry out incoherently though the sound was one which would be associated with a sense of deep loss. This was a technique Bones had used a few times back in the Academy when he had not been able to wake Jim up from a nightmare to try and at least calm him down but this time it was not working. Jim continued to thrash about as he did before, covered in a sheen of sweat with his face contorted in pain. Guilt gnawed at McCoy, he should have left his friend sedated but now that the stimulant was in his system he didn't want to introduce yet another sedative.

The doctor watched, still stroking Jim's hair, as Spock knelt by the other side of the bed, and place the fingers of his hand on the psi points of Jim's face. The Vulcan looked up at Bones questioningly, as if asking permission and the doctor nodded his consent. Perhaps Spock would be able to plant calming thoughts into Jim's mind. Unfortunately he did not have the time to do such a thing. It was like the Captain felt the invasion of his mind and pushed Spock out of it and out of the mind meld. That was not impossible for a human to do but so unlikely that Spock had never even considered it a possibility, it was intriguing. But Jim hadn't managed to get rid of him quickly enough to stop him from seeing the bloodbath which was the bridge and the pain of grief and loss which was overwhelming his Captain and his friend. It was enough to cause an ache in the Vulcan so what Jim was experiencing must be truly awful.

"He thinks we're all dead, he thinks that Kahn killed us," Spock informed McCoy who was looking up at him with a look of confusion on his face; he knew that the mind meld should have taken longer than that. "He pushed me out," he said as a way of explanation. "I do not understand how he managed to do so."

"It's Jim Kirk, that's how." McCoy leant in closer to Kirk and began to reassure him that they were in fact still alive. It took a long time and another attempt at a mind meld before Jim shot straight up, gasping for breath, and began clawing at the bandages around his eyes desperate to see his surroundings.

"Captain, you need to calm down and slow your breathing," Spock informed him, battling with one arm while McCoy tried to restrain the other.

"It's ok Jim," McCoy reassured gently, sounding completely different from his usual self. "You're in sickbay; you were just having a nightmare." It took a few moments for him to register what had been said but when he did he stopped struggling.

"B'nes?" he slurred quietly but the hint of hopefulness in his voice was unmistakable.

"That's right kid; it's just Spock and I here."

"Spock?" What was going on? He had been sure that they had been killed. Clumsily he began to grope around with his hands, it was McCoy who caught on to what Jim was trying to do first so he took Jim's hand in his and squeezed it tight and Spock soon followed suit. The doctor had known Jim for long enough to know he needed firm evidence before he believed anything and, since the virus had forced McCoy to bandage up Jim's eyes, touch was the only way Jim would get proof that in fact his doctor and first officer were still alive. Not for the first time Bones felt a tug of guilt for essentially blinding Jim even though he knew that there was no other alternative, one of the main problems with Andorian Shingles was that there was no point in using a dermal regenerator until the virus had completely left the body otherwise the sores would just come back. Regeneration of the eyes was more difficult anyway as more specialised equipment was needed.

"Doctor," Spock called more softly than McCoy though him capable of. Reluctantly he removed his gaze from Jim's face and turned his attention to Spock. "I feel I should return to the bridge. What would you like me to tell the crew, I believe it to be a logical assumption that they will enquire as to the Captain's health?"

"Yes Mr Spock, I believe that is a logical assumption. Tell them he is still not well but is not any worse which means that Jim's immune system is beginning to fight back. But if they want to visit him then they need to ok it with me before they come down."

"As you wish Doctor." Gently the Vulcan removed his Captain's hand away from his own and arranged his fingers into a Vulcan salute even though he knew that his friend could not see he was doing it. "As you humans say, I hope you are feeling better soon Jim." With that he left reluctantly, not really wanting to leave his friend but his duty as Acting Captain was calling on him.

"Spock has left now Jim, it's just me and you here now. Do you want me to put you back under?" At the suggestion of being sedated again Jim shook his head vigorously before groaning in pain. He raised his free hand to tug at his hair and the one which was still holding onto McCoy's larger hand gripped even tighter. The Doctor hated to see his friend in such a state but there was nothing much more he could do other than sedate him; he was already on the highest doses of painkillers he could and he couldn't give him anything stronger because, well, the idiot was allergic.

After a few minutes of McCoy sitting on the side of Jim's bed he noticed Jim was shaking causing a deep frown to furrow his forehead. "Are you alright Jim?" the doctor asked, thoroughly concerned. The Captain opened his mouth to try and reassure Bones but something in him cracked, he had no idea what it was. He just felt so drained, both emotionally and physically, that instead of the words he intended a guttural sob was ripped from him. Then he felt strong arms envelop him and he clasped desperately onto McCoy, unable to prevent the outburst of sobs which followed. Bones held his friend tightly as he began to break. Despite the fact that he was aware that the only reason Jim was letting himself cry like this was because of the fever, in normal circumstances his mind would not let him trust anyone enough to let him cry when anyone could see him, but this felt good. Not that he liked Jim crying, nothing could be further from the truth, but finally being able to be there and comfort his friend, that felt good and it felt right. "Shh, it's alright kid, you're alright. Just let it go, that's it." He felt Jim cling onto him tighter so he held him closer. The tears were beginning to seep through the bandages and in the back of his mind McCoy registered he would have to change them after all of this. The two of them sat there, McCoy holding his friend tightly letting him feel safe for once in his life, and Kirk clung to his friend desperately, enjoying the familiar and comforting scent of his doctor as he buried his face into the crook of McCoy's neck

After some time Jim managed to cry himself to sleep and McCoy held him still, not wanting to let go in case it woke Jim who so desperately needed sleep. But in the end he relinquished his grip as his back began to protest, and laid Jim down gently on the biobed and carefully draped the blanket over his prone form.


	5. Our blood will boil

_I am so sorry this has taken so long. I've been getting settled into uni and then I had uni work to contend with and yeah, you can probably imagine life is fairly busy right now. But I am finally getting the next chapter out to you. Thank you Tishbing, AngelPanda3, Guest, Emiliana Keladry, terrillian, Aranna Undomiel and Milkywaysupernova for reviewing. I am sorry I did not reply to you all (I just remembered that I had not) but please realise how much hearing what people think about this fic means to me. So I really do mean it when I say thank you. Please read and enjoy and please, drop me a review to tell me what you think. I promise, I will actually reply this time!_

**Andorian Shingles**

**Chapter 5- Our blood will boil**

Jim Kirk was feeling better; there was no doubt about that. He still spent most of the day asleep but when he was awake he was certainly working McCoy hard. The doctor felt that in the two days since Kirk's little breakdown the only words that had left his lips were something along the lines of 'stop scratching' and 'lie down'. Of course when he said that there were more threats involved but he was struggling to act normally with his best friend. All he saw when he looked at Kirk was the man who had been crying and clinging onto him as if his life depended on it, not the head strong Captain who had saved them from more perilous situations than he cared to think about.

The two of them had not talked about what had happened and Bones reckoned that they probably never would; Jim apparently had no desire to initiate that conversation and the doctor was not going to try and force the issue. No, the Captain seemed quite content with trying to make McCoy's life a living hell now that he was feeling better.

"Bones, can I get up?" The CMO looked up from where he sat at his desk as he heard the tired voice of his patient and friend over the COM.

"No," he replied firmly hoping to indicate that Jim had no choice in the matter. Of course Kirk did not notice this or decided to completely ignore it.

"But this biobed is uncomfortable," Kirk whined sounding more like a child than a Captain. McCoy rubbed his face in frustration and stood up, his chair sliding violently along the floor as he shoved it back. The moment he heard Kirk's voice over the COM he knew he would not be getting any more work done for the next couple of hours.

Strolling out of his office he made a bee-line for his friend's bed, grabbing a stool and sitting down. At first he completely ignored Kirk, taking note of his vitals, trying to make the younger man realise that he was in no mood to be playing Jim's games. Jim was listening to his movements warily, not putting it past his friend to lull him into a false sense of security before launching a surprise hypo attack. This slight stress obviously showed up in his vitals. "Relax Jim; I'm not going to do anything." The captain simply grunted disbelievingly in reply but did relax slightly; it would be very unlike his friend to tell downright lie.

"Bones, can I leave?" he asked again, turning his head in Bones' general direction.

"No, and stop scratching dammit." Jim's sores were just reaching the point where they were beginning to scab over and heal, well they would be healing if the idiot of a man stopped scratching at them like something possessed. He retracted his hand, having the common decency to look at least a little sheepish about the whole situation.

"But Bones, I am bored," he announced as he tried to suppress a yawn which caused Bones to smile. All he had to do was keep Jim going a little while longer and then he'd be out for a good few hours. Perhaps he would get some work done then after all.

"I don't care if you are bored. You're still not well and you still can't see. There is no way I am letting you out of here. Knowing you, somehow you'd encounter some previously unknown pathogen which causes a relapse of Andorian shingles. You're not getting out of here for another three days at least."

"Speaking of which," Jim started, seemingly un-phased by McCoy's little speech, "When will you let me see again?"

"At the moment I am contemplating never taking the bandages off; I think that they are the only reason you are still in bed right now. If you could see you'd be off gallivanting around the ship and trying to hide from me."

"Bones," Jim growled sounding genuinely upset which took McCoy aback slightly.

"I think you'll be good to have them off tomorrow. It is a gradual process though; it will probably take all day. You have had no light going into your eyes for quite some time now and the last thing I want to do is damage them by straining them, according to my scans they have survived the shingles with absolutely no damage. You are lucky in that respect Jim; that could have blinded you." A flash of an image of blood pouring from under Jim's closed eyelids flashed up in McCoy's memory causing him to wince.

"Hmm," Jim replied, his head lulling slightly to the side. The doctor said nothing else but remained by his friend's bedside until the familiar brainwaves of REM sleep made their way onto the biobed display.

* * *

Sickbay was almost silent when Jim woke up. There was the beeping and humming of various machines and the sounds of feet quietly walking around but all of it sounded very distant. It had to be gamma shift, sickbay was usually full of hustle and bustle so either it was gamma shift or he had slept through some horrible tragedy which had killed all the rest of his crew. Gingerly he hoisted himself into a sitting position and the fact he had not been shouted at for doing so meant that McCoy had retreated to his quarters. That, at least, gave him some degree of freedom. Although, it would be a lot easier to make the most of this freedom if he could actually see.

Very carefully he began to feel the bandaging wrapped around his head and it didn't feel like it would be too hard to remove. And it was gamma shift so the lighting would be dimmer than usual, it was awfully tempting. Kirk sat there and weighed his options. He was still recovering from his illness, the tiredness was already beginning to creep over him so even if he did manage to leave sickbay he had no idea how far he would get before he had to stop. And Bones would kill him for moving about before he'd okayed it, but if Bones could have it his way Jim would be permanently wrapped up in soft blankets and never allowed to move again. Even so, he didn't fancy the lecture, ranting and threats which would inevitably come. But he had been cooped up in sickbay for ages and he just wanted to get out, he wanted to see his ship and make sure she was getting on ok without him.

"Are you alright sir?" came the sudden, soft voice of a nurse. Jim thought it was weird he didn't hear her coming but it didn't matter.

"Fine thanks, um, would you be able to help me to the bathroom? You know, because I can't see," he asked causing the nurse to chuckle.

"Of course." Gently she helped him to his feet and guided him to the bathroom.

"Thank you," he said once they had made it. "I'll be ok from here, I know my way back to my bed now so don't wait for me."

"Sir, I think I should…"

"Don't worry, nurse…?"

"Young," she supplied.

"Don't worry nurse Young, I'll be fine."

"But Dr McCoy…"

"That is an order nurse," he said, regretting that he had to fall back onto his rank but being too desperate to get away to be as bothered by it as he usually would. As much as he loved being Captain he didn't like having to pull rank over his crew, especially when he was not on duty.

"Yes sir," she said and he heard her walking away. Quickly he closed and locked the door behind him.

Kirk only hesitated for a second before he raised his hands to the bandaging and began to fiddle about, desperate to get the material off and to be actually able to see. He was desperate to see his ship and her crew. On several occasions whilst he was ill he had imagined himself wandering around the corridors, he could visualise each and every turn, door and Jefferies tube. But now he was going to actually get to see his beautiful ship and he was determined to make it up onto the Bridge, if only for a few minutes.

Bones seemed to think that the only reason Jim wanted to get back to work was to annoy him but that was not the case. He genuinely loved what he did, he loved the ship and the people he worked with were like his family. When he was working he was happy, his career was the only thing in his life that had gone right. He knew that he had Pike to thank for that. At the thought of his deceased mentor Jim's stomach clenched painfully but he worked through it, he kept unwinding the bandages that never seemed to end. He had to see his ship; he had to get back to work. When he was working things seemed well and it helped him to forget.

As the last of the bandages dropped off his face Kirk clenched his eyes tightly shut, remembering what McCoy had told him about not wanting him to strain his eyes. Even so he knew his doctor would not be happy with what he was planning no matter how careful he was. Jim chuckled as he imagined all of the expletives Bones was going to come out with when he found out what Jim was doing. He was bound to find out, he always did. Slowly he removed the sterile pads and even with his eyes shut the red glow of light flowed in causing them to ache. The captain was beginning to think that this was a bad idea but he was not about to give up, not when he was so close.

Hesitantly he began to prise his eyes open and he blinked rapidly, damn that hurt more than he would care to admit. Still blinking quickly, desperately trying to get moisture into his eyes to relieve the painful stinging sensation, he made his way over to the mirror. He gazed at his reflection as he leant on the sink in front of him. Even he had to admit he looked awful. There was dried blood around his eyes, which he quickly washed off, and the actual whites of his eyes were bright red. His skin looked pale, with an almost greyish tinge to it which only accentuated the rawness of his eyes. His face, which had once looked thin but healthy, was now verging on looking gaunt. He didn't think he had been ill long enough for such a dramatic change but McCoy had always hassled him about his eating habits; perhaps he had been thinner than he had realised. To top it all off it didn't look like he had been shaved in a few days which completed the crazed look.

Unfortunately he would have to make do with his less than perfect look. Despite how awful he looked he couldn't help but feel elated, he could finally see again and it felt better than he could have possibly imagined, never mind the fact he had to blink every couple of seconds to keep the burning and the aching of his eyes at a tolerable level. As quickly as he could manage he went to the replicator and got himself a fresh uniform, he was glad to be rid of the gown he'd been stuck in for however long it was.

Kirk took a deep breath before heading out into sickbay; he carefully looked around the door, still blinking vigorously, and saw that the area was essentially clear. There were a couple of nurses with their backs turned, obviously preoccupied with something else, on the other side. Quickly he hurried out of the bathroom and towards the turbo lift, already battling pain and exhaustion. But he was Jim Kirk; it took much more to stop him when he had his mind set on something.

Once he was in the safety of the turbo lift and the doors were shut securely behind him he muttered an apology to the nurses and anyone else on shift in medlab. It was inevitable that before gamma shift was through they would be facing the full brunt of McCoy's wrath and for that he truly was sorry. Soon he was zooming his way up to the bridge, originally he had wanted to walk up but even he had to admit that he probably would not make it. But he didn't mind, not really, it felt good just to be up and about. The feeling of the turbo lift whizzing about was good after being cooped up under Bones' watch for so long. In medlab he didn't really feel the throb of the ship's power like he did on the bridge; it was hard to tell the difference between medlab on the Enterprise and any other sickbay. But when he was on the Bridge he knew he was on the Enterprise. There were always things going on and even in the lulls he enjoyed listening to the thrum of his ship's engines and the feel of the power surging through her.

The turbo lift began to slow down and he pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning and straightened his uniform. He felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline as the doors opened and he saw the Bridge, his Bridge. It was bright up there, even with the dimmed lights, but Kirk felt too thrilled to care. He strutted over to his chair and collapsed into it, already completely wiped out but glad he had made it up. Up until that point he had not been aware of all of the eyes on him but now he felt them, and there were a particular pair of eyes which he noticed. The eyes of one Hikaru Sulu. Damn, what was Sulu doing on duty during gamma shift? He'd hoped that the bridge would be staffed by people he rarely worked with; he'd be able to intimidate them for a while for him to spend a decent length of time on the Bridge, even if he fell asleep. But Sulu had worked with him enough to know his aversion to sickbay. He also knew that in general McCoy was more terrifying than Kirk and that Kirk was meant to still be lying on a biobed.

"Captain, I think it would be wise for you to go back to medlab," Sulu stated calmly.

"I am fine Mr Sulu," he replied instantly. Damn, his eyes were so sore and absolutely everything hurt. He could really do with a pain killer.

"You're not meant to be out of bed sir, I will call Dr McCoy." At this Kirk's eyes widened, he'd thought he'd get a bit more time with his beloved ship. Anyway, even if he wanted to move, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

"He's discharged me."

"No he hasn't," replied the pilot irritably. Kirk gripped the arms of his chair and clenched his eyes shut. This really was much more painful than he had anticipated. He was aware of the silence that filled the Bridge as everyone watched their Captain succumb to pain as the initial thrill of escape evaporated. Where was Bones with a hypo when he was needed?

"Bridge to Dr McCoy," Kirk heard Sulu say. Bones was not going to be happy.

"What is it Sulu?" Crap, he was irritable and he didn't know what had happened yet.

"Doctor, I think you should come up to the Bridge. We seem to have acquired an escaped convict." There was a brief moment of silence and then a sigh could be heard over the COM.

"What the hell is he playing at?"

"I don't know. He says you discharged him."

"Like hell I did. Well, I'll be right up. Thanks for telling me, at least someone on this ship has some common sense."

By this point Jim was in too much pain to care how angry Bones was going to be, he was just glad his friend was coming. It felt like he was being stabbed in the eyes, all of his joints ached, his skin was itchy and he was just so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. He clenched his eyes shut even tighter and he felt a groan escape his lips. Moment later there was a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe Captain, McCoy will be up here soon and he'll sort you out. Just breathe." And Kirk tried and succeeded to an extent but it just hurt so much.

He wasn't sure how much later it was but at some point McCoy appeared. He and Sulu discussed something briefly before he heard the familiar whir of the tricorder. Next strong fingers forced his eyelids open and the Doctor looked at them carefully. Kirk gazed at his friend's angry but concerned face and he felt safe. He knew once he was recovered from this little setback there would be hell to pay but he knew McCoy would not shout at him if he was unwell. "You really are an idiot Jim," said the familiar voice of his best friend. "Come on; let's get you back down to medlab." Jim nodded and tried to force himself up and would have collapsed straight onto the floor if it hadn't been for the two pairs of hands which caught him and then settled him back into his chair.

"Ok, I take it walking is not an option. I'll call sickbay for a stretcher."

"No!" shouted Kirk, shaking his head vigorously. "I'll be ok." He went to push himself up again but was stopped by the Doctor's firm hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think so," Bones said in his no-nonsense voice. "It's either a stretcher or Sulu and I will help you down." Kirk tried to glare at Bones but the desired effect was somewhat diminished when he could only keep his eyes open a few seconds before having to slam them shut again.

"Fine, help me then," he said in frustration. He really was just sick of being sick. Silently the two other men obliged, hoisting the invalided Captain to his feet and each wrapped one of his arms around their shoulders. In unison they moved to the turbo lift, half carrying the semi-conscious man to the turbo lift. They stood in silence as the lift moved back down into medlab. Several nurses watched as they situated Kirk back on his biobed, each of them knowing once Kirk was sorted out their necks would be on the line.

"M'sorry Bones," Kirk slurred as the two men sat him on the edge of the biobed. McCoy knelt down to remove his friend's shoes whilst Sulu supported him, making sure he didn't topple over.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll talk about this later."

"I just wanted to see my ship."

"I know kid. You are stronger than I thought you were though so I might release you into your quarters tomorrow." A small smile played on the edge of Kirk's lips. He knew he had been forgiven but he was also well aware that wouldn't prevent the lecture.

"I won't do it again," Kirk assured his friend.

"Yeah you will kid, I am in no doubt about that." Gently he helped Jim manoeuvre into a lying position and Kirk was asleep within seconds.


End file.
